Soap Opera Scoobies
by emw314
Summary: In response to Twisting the Hellmouth's Challenge 2906, Soap-Opera Family. Buffy, Xander and Willow discover just how soapy their lives can be.
1. Oh, Ew, Ick!

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

A/N: In answer to Challenge 2906 Soap Opera Family.

A/N2: Set in the Summer after Season 4, BtVS, and just prior to Season 4 of Stargate SG1.

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><p><em>In which, our heroes squick themselves over what they are, and what they've done.<em>

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><p>Giles opened his door to find, to his deep surprise, Joyce Summers standing there, looking rather … embarrassed. "Joyce," he greeted with a smile. "How may I help you?"<p>

"Er, well," she began as she sidled into the apartment. "This is kind of somewhat awkward." She sighed. "I need you to find Buffy's father."

Giles blinked. "I had rather thought he was in LA. Tea?" he called as he walked into the kitchen.

Joyce cleared her throat as she blushed. "Yes, thanks. And, er, no. Not Hank Summers. It's actually one of the reasons we divorced. He couldn't stand the thought that his little girl was someone else's little girl. And, well, I would like to think that Buffy had someone else to fall back on if … well, this is the Hellmouth, after all."

Giles began to clean his glasses. "Quite," he murmured. "So do you have any idea about who Buffy's father is?"

"Oh, yes," Joyce nodded. "He's in the Air Force. Or, at least, he was in the Air Force. Jack O'Neill was his name. Of course, that was twenty years ago, so I don't know if he's even in the Air Force any more, or what is rank might be, or, well, anything. Do you think you can do that?"

"It shouldn't be too much of a problem," Giles decided as he brought the tea things out to the table. "One thing I do need to know is if you have any problem with the Council being involved? After all, if we are to do this mundanely, they would be our best bet."

"No!" Joyce all but yelled. "No, I don't want those … people to have anything to do with this. I'm sorry, Giles. Is there any other way?"

"There is a spell," Giles offered. "It's something like a locator spell, and will point out close blood relatives. So you will be marked, as well as Dawn and Mr O'Neill, and any siblings, or even half-siblings. Generally not cousins, though," he added contemplatively. "I will need supplies," he went on absently. "Blood, of course." He wandered off to find a book, and Joyce sat at the table, looking at her tea.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing, Giles?" Willow chirped as she looked at the materials set up on the older man's dining table.<p>

"What?" he asked absently. "Oh. Just a little project I have going. It involves Buffy."

"Me?" Buffy squeaked from her position on his couch. "What are you doing about me?"

"Just a little … thing. I shall need some blood. Not much," Giles assured, smiling slightly. "Just, oh, let's see," he peered at the book. "Let's say a cup. To be on the safe side."

"Isn't that an awful lot of blood, Mr Giles?" Tara asked softly.

"Yes," Giles frowned. "It is an unusual amount. For a spell. What I meant was that it wasn't much for Buffy to give. The problem is that the spell may need to go a fair distance. It's … a form of locator spell," he explained vaguely.

"So you're looking for long-lost relatives of the Buffster?" Xander asked, inspecting the preparations.

"Er … yes, Xander," Giles agreed, surprised. "How did you guess?"

"Blood," Xander nodded sagely. "And you said it was a locator spell. If you're using that much blood to find something, I'm guessing it's a someone, and blood makes it a relative. But I could be way wrong, too," he shrugged.

"No," Giles murmured, looking at the young man oddly. "You are exactly right. Would you like to see how I do it?"

Xander glared at the older man from under his eyebrows. "You're not getting me into this, are you? Have we not forgotten the speaking of Latin in front of books?"

"Actually, that does raise an interesting point," Giles considered. "You said a simple incantation, and set the book alight. I was more annoyed about the fact that you tried to destroy one of my books to realise what you had done. Perhaps you should join Willow and Tara with magic practice."

Xander's eyes grew wide. "Uh, no, Giles. I don't think I'd be very welcome when they're, um, 'practising their spells.'" Buffy snorted with laughter, while the other two girls went red. "Anyway, the mojo's really their thing. Not so much for the Xan-man."

"Really, Xander," Giles chided, "if you can perform magic that easily, you really should learn properly, lest something untoward happen."

Desperate, Xander turned to Willow for help. The redhead giggled, then put on her scholastically-inquisitive face. "So what are you doing with the spell?" she asked.

Prompted by Willow, Giles dropped his eyes to the supplies on the table. "Oh, yes. Right then." He set his book up on the book stand, and gathered the herbs and other supplies. "Buffy, if you would come here, please."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Xander, and muttered as she passed him, "The things I do for you." By the time she had reached the table, she had her sleeve pushed up. "And I thought the vampires were bad enough," she teased.

Giles measured out the portion of blood, and set it aside. He lit the candle sitting in front of the book, and began to chant the spell and mix the ingredients. Willow looked on avidly, Tara curiously. Xander sat back, trying to not show too much interest – Giles might forget about teaching him magic if he faded into the background for the next little while. Buffy, meanwhile, began to nibble at a thumbnail, trying not to get too excited.

As they watched, a number of coloured lights rose from the potion now sitting on the table. As Buffy looked at them, she realised that all the lights were either red, blue, or some combination.

"Red is for your mother, Buffy," Giles explained as they looked at the lights swirling in the bowl, "and blue is for your father. That one," he indicated a purplish light, "would be for Dawn. The other two lights are … half-siblings?" he offered. "On your father's side, since there is no red in them."

"Oh, look," Buffy pointed, "they're speeding up."

All of the group peered into the bowl again, and the lights were, indeed, speeding up, nearly at the top of the bowl. Suddenly, the lights crowned the edge of the bowl, and spun out. The two half-sibling lights slammed straight into Willow and Xander, throwing them, unconscious, to the floor, while the other lights shot straight through walls into the night. Giles took note that father light headed off in a direction that it was most definitely not towards LA, but rather back to the East. And left something of a burn mark on the wall as it passed through.

"Giles!" Buffy cried, lifting Xander up while Tara checked on her girlfriend. "I thought this spell was supposed to work on blood, not best friends."

"It is," Giles frowned. "It has nothing to do with bonds of affection, but only blood."

"Then why did it take out my two best friends?" Buffy demanded.

Giles rubbed the back of his neck. "Did the lights go into them, or through them," he asked.

"Into them, Mr Giles," Tara declared. "I saw the light move into Willow, like it was trying to become part of her."

"Well, then," Giles offered, "there may be more to your friendships than any of us considered."

"So, they're, like, really my family?" Buffy asked, grinning. She then blinked and made a face. "Oh, ew," she grimaced. "I suddenly squicked myself on that dance I had with Xander, Junior year. And very glad I never took him up on anything. Oh, oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he finds out."

"Finds out what?" Xander groaned, pushing himself up off the couch. "The licence of that truck that hit me? And what's with trucks in your dining room, Giles?"

"Um, no," Buffy began, blushing. "That would have been the half-sibling light that hit you, not a truck."

"Damn," Xander muttered. "Knew I shouldn't have been sitting so close."

"No, Xander," Giles smiled, cleaning his glasses, "I don't think a few feet would have made much difference. The light went into you, not through you," he smirked.

"Into," Xander repeated.

Buffy gave a sick grin. "Yeah."

"A half-sibling light went _into_ me," Xander tried again.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed again.

"Which means that we're … half-siblings," Xander tried yet again, and the story was not getting any better.

"On our father's side," Buffy nodded.

"Really?" Xander whined. "I got the dead-beat dad? No offence, Buff, but if I had to be related to you, couldn't I get your mom? Although, that would mean that she had sex with Tony, and that he is still my father, and suddenly I'm seeing the very good of this!" he finished with a grin.

Buffy looked at Tara, and held up five fingers, which she counted down. When she had two fingers left, Xander shot to his feet.

"Oh, ew!" Xander shouted. "Oh, gods! I can't believe … that means… Giles!"

"I most sincerely hope you're not going to blame me for any of this," the older man frowned. "What you children may or may not have done in this regard has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, gods, Xan," Buffy gasped. "You kissed Willow!"

"And?" Xander asked, looking for his friend. Seeing her only now waking up, he paled. "Oh, please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means."

"No," Buffy nodded vigorously. "No, it doesn't."

"No, what doesn't?" Willow asked groggily.

"Uh, the fact that you were both hit by half-sibling lights does not mean that you kissed your half-brother on your father's side," Buffy assured in a blatant lie.

Willow's eyes grew wide as she turned to her now-greenish best friend, then sighed and collapsed back into her girlfriend's arms.

"You know," Giles frowned. "I really should have made sure Spike was here. I could have charged him admission. Or at very least recorded this so I could sell the concept to some soap-opera maker."

* * *

><p>Xander peered at the compass set down on the table. "You know what? I just had a thought. Does the Hellmouth affect Magnetic North?"<p>

Giles looked at the young man, startled. "Oh, um, w-well… No, actually. No, it doesn't. I just had to think about it, but it is a different kind of energy. Apparently."

"Cool," Xander murmured. "So I'm getting around about East-North-East for the direction. Any more accurate, you're going to have to read it yourself. You got the distance reading?"

"Yes," Giles murmured as he peered at the compass. "If you could open up that map..." he trailed off, making notes.

Xander, meanwhile, opened the map out onto the other end of the table. He fiddled with it, straightening it to reflect the proper direction, and measured out the distance. "Okay, roughly fourteen hundred miles, East-North-East, brings us to … Colorado Springs. Which could be right, if Dear Old Dad is still in the Air Force. It's a military town, NORAD not being the least of our worries. Peterson, Schriever, Fort Carson, plus the Academy. Not to mention it's got to be, what, ten times the size of Sunnydale?"

"Still getting flashbacks?" Giles asked mildly.

Xander grimaced and dropped his head. "It comes and goes," he admitted. "I think he spent time there, possibly out of Cheyenne." When Giles simply raised his eyebrows, Xander continued. "NORAD is based out of Cheyenne Mountain Air Station." He looked up at the older man. "So how does it feel to get out of telling Buffy that Hank isn't her dad?"

"I have rarely been more pleased to see someone in my life," Giles admitted wryly. "And, of course, it is much better to hear such a thing from one's own parent," he added.

"Got that right. Certainly better than being slammed in the chest by a little glowy light," Xander smirked.

"I have apologised for that several times, Xander," Giles returned in a long-suffering tone, "and I refuse to do so again. Now our next question is how do we get there."

Xander tapped the tabletop as he thought. "Go down on your knees and beg for the use of Mrs Summers' SUV? Offer your mid-life-crisis-mobile in return, and promise that Buffy never gets to drive?"

"It would hold all of us," Giles considered.

"Providing the girls can restrict themselves on their packing," Xander added.

"We won't have much room for weapons, though," Giles frowned. "Not with everything else."

"One duffle bag each for clothing, one for weapons, and a very strict load limit on books," Xander decided with a sharp stare at Giles.

"I am quite sure I don't know what you mean," the older man murmured as he wandered off.

* * *

><p>The group gathered in the driveway of the Summers house, saying their final goodbyes.<p>

"No, Buffy," Xander ground out, exasperated, "you can't take it: it won't fit."

"But we can squish it in," Buffy attempted.

"Where?" Xander demanded, eyeing the fully packed rear section of the SUV.

"Um... Under our feet?" the blonde tried.

"There are three of you sitting in the back," Xander argued, "it's a long trip, do you really want something cramping you during the trip?"

"And why are the three of us stuck in the back, anyway?" Buffy pouted.

Xander ticked off his fingers. "Giles and I are taller, we are broader, and we are driving. Do you really want either of us crammed in the back with you?"

Buffy scowled as she inspected her Xander-shaped frie- brother, and realised he was not a little man. She knew that, but she often forgot, as he was so much a part of their group. She too often considered him just one of the girls, and somehow downsized him mentally to be just like her. Except when she needed something off the top shelf. She sighed. "Fine. Hog the front seats. See if I care."

Xander laughed, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, before ruffling her hair. Dodging the batting hand, he scooped up Buffy's third (and rejected) bag, and carried it back to the porch. Walking back to the vehicle, he grinned at his other sister (He had sisters! It was so cool!)

Willow looked up at her brother, grinned, and pumped her fist. "Woo-hoo!" she called. "Road trip!" When Xander bit his lip and looked at Buffy, Giles coughed, and Tara fidgeted, Willow shrugged self-consciously. "Too excited? That was too much, wasn't it?" she squirmed.

"It was very sweet, sweetie," Tara soothed with a kiss.

"I was actually trying not to laugh at the cuteness, Will," Xander explained. "You being cute is kind of funny. But in a good way. In a that's-my-sister, isn't-she-cute, way. Or that's-my-girlfriend, but that only works on the Taras around here," he added with a serious nod.

"Dear God in Heaven," Giles murmured, "it runs in the family." He cleared his throat, and glanced at Joyce. "Are you sure the gallery needs you at the moment? I could volunteer," he suggested.

"Oh, no," Joyce shook her head. "You're the Watcher, you're the man with the magic, you get to deal with all that. And the SUV won't seat six, and Tara's been so very much looking forward to the trip," she added persuasively. "And I'm not packed. And I have Dawn to look after..."

"Yes, yes," Giles nodded, rolling his eyes. "I do believe you've made your point."

"Good," Joyce smirked. "Okay, well, you're all packed, we've all said goodbye, so I think it's time you all get in the car and get going, don't you? Colorado's not getting any closer."

With the, the girls piled into the back while the guy sat in the front, Giles taking the first shift of driving. With waves, and farewells called out of open windows, the group left Sunnydale on the first (patent pending) Scoobie Roadtrip.


	2. Welcome to Wonderland

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or SG1

A/N: Er, just to let you know, this will be more fantastical than my usual fic, but I don't think I can do the whole full-blown soap opera thing (don't watch them, so sure I won't be able to create the full experience) but there will be silly little things popping up that really wouldn't happen. I think. Surely.

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><p><em>In which, our heroes find out about the Goa'uld, and Daddy and friends find out about magic. (Fun!)<em>

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><p>Willow groaned as she stretched beside the SUV. "I knew I should have invested in that yoga class," she decided.<p>

"I think I currently have more kinks than Anya," Buffy frowned. "So is that why she dumped you?" she went on. "'Cause you weren't kinky enough?"

"Buffy!" Willow hissed, while her girlfriend blushed.

"What?" the blonde demanded. "He's my brother, now. More than ever I want know know things."

"Buff," Xander frowned, "now, more than ever, I do not want you to know anything about my sex-life. Let alone do I want to know anything about yours. As far as I'm concerned, you and Ri sit there and play pat-a-cake. Or read weird existential crap. 'Cause the thought of my little sister having sex is a little too much for me right at the moment. As for Anya," he went on, shrugging. "It was one thing to date the normal Scoobie, but totally another to date the big half-brother of the Slayer and a powerful witch," he added with a smile at each girl. "Apparently my Viking-ness was just not enough anymore."

"That was a sex comment," Buffy smirked.

"More of a boasting comment," Xander justified. He frowned. "Although, it was boasting about sex, so point to the Buffster."

Giles watched, smiling, as Buffy danced around the dark-haired man singing 'My point, my point.' "Well, as much fun as this is, perhaps we could all unpack and maybe have a nap. Then, after dinner, we might try a patrol of the neighbourhood. The city is too large to do a proper patrol like we might in Sunnydale."

"I think Willow and Tara need some, uh, spell-practice time," Buffy smirked, "so we might leave them behind when we go patrolling."

"Pity we couldn't spring for a separate room for them," Xander mused. "I fully understand why we couldn't," he added hastily, "just saying."

Giles nodded and smiled at the younger man. "Yes, well. Unpack, nap, dinner and patrol. Is everyone agreed?"

"And maybe we can go clubbing tomorrow night," Willow proposed. "Before or after patrol. Or, you know, during patrol. 'Cause we all know how much vamps love the clubs."

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><p>Giles smiled at the young people walking in front of him. Despite that fact that they were here to find their father, he still thought of them all as his children. Patrol both last night and tonight had been quiet, so they were looking for a club, and all but dragging him in. He knew he should feel awkwardly out of place, but they insisted it wouldn't be the same without him, so here he was.<p>

Suddenly, Buffy stopped, joined almost immediately by Xander.

"What is it?" Giles asked.

"Heard something," Buffy murmured, then dashed off down an alley, followed by Xander. Giles, Willow and Tara ran after them, to find Buffy and Xander fighting off a small pack of vampires. Giles darted in and retrieved their intended victim, dragging them to the mouth of the alley. He dropped the man at Willow and Tara's feet, and ran back, intending to help Xander, who appeared to be about to be overcome.

Xander, though, had other plans. He planted his hand on the vampire's chest, and yelled, "_Lamia incindere._" With that, the vampire began to scream as it's extremities burst into flame, the fire rushing to its centre. Within seconds, the vampire had dissolved to ash, to Xander's obvious delight. The two remaining vampires stared at him for a moment before turning tale and running.

The others, likewise, stared at the young man.

"Go, Xan," Buffy grinned.

"Yeah, Xan," Willow nodded. "You get down with your bad self," she chirped. "Except," she added, "not bad, 'cause bad is dark, which is evil, and we don't want evil!Xan, we want good!Xan, 'cause good!Xan is of the good, and that's what we want for you, and can I finish now?" she begged.

"We got it, Will," Buffy chuckled. "And good!Xan is definitely of the good. And that was really cool, Xander. Real quick thinking," she added, nodding.

"Yes, Xander, that was very well done," Giles added proudly. "But, rather than getting into that just now," he went on, "we have someone who really should be taken to the hospital. For the, uh, attempted mugging."

"Oh, yeah," Willow nodded solemnly. "They didn't get your wallet, did they?" she asked the man solicitously.

The man shook his head, wide-eyed with shock.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" Xander asked. "Looks like that, uh, gang member might have got you," he added, reaching for the man's neck. "Those wacky gang members with their, uh, weird initiation games."

"Yeah," the man nodded. "Gang initiations."

"You need a hand to get to the hospital?" Buffy asked. She was fairly certain the man wasn't seriously hurt, but she wanted to make sure.

"No, no. I'll be fine," the man assured them.

"I don't like the way your neck is bleeding," Buffy frowned. "I really think we should take you to the hospital."

"Oh, it's not too far," he tried again.

"Then it's not too far for us to walk you, is it?" Buffy asked, smiling. She put an arm around him. "So which way is it?" she asked.

* * *

><p>They continued on their patrol, having dropped the injured man off at the hospital. By the time they were at the Emergency Room reception, he was convinced that Xander and Giles had saved him from being the focal point of a gang initiation. Buffy had (obviously, being a small woman, and all) stayed back with Willow and Tara, looking on with awe as the men did the manly hero thing. Bumpy foreheads, yellow eyes, and fangs had faded from memory, as had villains lighting up, and turning to dust.<p>

"It was very well done," Giles congratulated, "setting the vampire alight. Very quick thinking, as Buffy said."

"Well," Xander shifted, embarrassed. "Not so quick thinking. Been thinking about it for a couple of weeks, now. Since someone decided I might actually be able to do magic," he added, scowling at Giles. "I kind of figured that since I set the book on fire by holding it and saying '_librum incindere,_' then maybe I could set a vampire on fire by touching it and saying '_lamia incindere_.' Which worked. Yay, me!"

"That's pretty powerful stuff, isn't it, Giles?" Buffy asked. "I mean, Willow spent ages trying to get a pencil to float, and all of a sudden Xander's crispy-crittering vampires?"

Giles frowned, then glanced at Tara. "Do you know something?" he asked, smiling gently.

"Contact magic is, is like that," she admitted softly. "Not everyone can do it, but when you can, it's pretty powerful. I think it's because there's no barrier between you and the object you're affecting." She looked at Willow. "That's why we were so much more powerful when we held hands that time," she added, thinking back to the incident with The Gentlemen. "But it's limited, though. You have to be specific, and it seems to be tied to certain languages. Latin, mainly. If Xander can do it, Willow possibly can, too," she added, smiling at her beloved.

"Quite right," Giles nodded. "And that would be an added factor with se- uh, certain other styles of magic."

"So hand roasting vamps is one thing, but fire balls probably way another?" Xander considered.

Willow nodded. "Ooh. And you've also got targeting issues. You know. Making sure you don't burn anyone other than the vamp you're after."

"This is true," Buffy nodded. "After all, we may not be quite as flammable as vamps, but we still do burn."

"Especially when we do not heed warnings about altitude doing funny things to the sunlight, and going sun-baking all. day. long," Xander nodded sagely.

Buffy scowled at her brother, who had the audacity to simply smile in return. She tossed her head. "Thank God for Slayer healing and aloe vera cream. All I'm saying." She looked around. "You know, not that I'm complaining, or anything, not in the slightest," she added, glaring at the heavens, "but it's been kind of quiet. That gang of vamps earlier seems like the only ones around. It just feels so different here."

"Well," Giles thought, "between the Hellmouth, and the Mayor, whose power, I might add, still affects Sunnydale, even though he's dead, the town is remarkably hospitable to the creatures of the dark. A city like this, however, is decidedly inhospitable. The police force are not corrupt, the citizenry are alert, and then you have the military presence. It is likely that Colorado Springs is generally considered off limits to the things we hunt."

"Translation," Xander whispered to Buffy, "it ain't Sunnyhell."

"I heard that," Giles murmured.

"Actually, Giles," Buffy began, frowning, "there is something kind of ooky coming from that direction," she pointed, and they all looked at where she was pointing. At nothing.

The nothing continued to remain unaccosted by anything, even as they watched.

"Right," Giles nodded. "Anything other than 'ooky'?" he asked.

"Nope," she shook her head. "Just ooky. I think that, if we were at home I wouldn't even feel it.. It's kind of a low-level ookiness that would get lost in the general ookiness of the Hellmouth."

Giles hummed in vague agreement. "Remind me to note that in my Journal when we get back, will you, Xander."

Xander grinned. "You know, I would, but I'm kind of getting it, too. Maybe it's because I grew up with the 'general ookiness' as Buffy called it, that I can sort of feel it. How's about you, Will?"

The redhead scrunched up her nose in thought. "You know what? I think I sort of can. A sort of twisty-stomach ickiness that just gets ickier when I look that way. And it's getting closer," Willow whimpered.

"See?" Buffy demanded. "See? Only it's 'ooky', not 'icky'," she corrected her friend/sister.

"I don't know, Buff," Xander argued. "I'm going to have to go with 'icky' from the Hellmouth-raised contingent. And, for some strange reason, it seems to be coming from him," he nodded at a man who had just run around a corner.

The man looked around wildly, and spotted the Scoobies. Seeing no others nearby, he headed straight for them. Buffy and Xander exchanged frowning glances, and stepped forward. As it turned out, Xander was slightly closer to the man than Buffy, and perhaps more impressive due to his height, as the running man seemed to head straight for him. Xander relaxed into a fairly upright stance, and reached back to undo the knife sheath hooked on his belt.

"Hey," Xander greeted neutrally.

The man's eyes flashed silver, then the man stumbled forwards, and seemed to cough something up. Xander jerked back as something white flew through the air at him, and Buffy dashed forward to pluck it out of the air before it could hit her brother.

"Ew!" she squealed. "Oh, this is so gross! It's icky, and slimy, and it's wriggling, and, oh God, Xan, do something."

While Buffy was squealing about the … snake in her hands, Xander had quickly shrugged out of his shirt to hold it under Buffy's hands. Once she was sure he was ready, she opened her hands, and released the … slug? Without hesitation, Xander closed up the shirt so that the … thing couldn't escape. Instead, it continued to thrash about in its tiny prison. And while Xander was grimacing at the bouncing shirt in his hands, Buffy busied herself cleaning her hands off on his undershirt, complaining about slime, and slimy demons that took over poor, innocent people and got hurled up when they were finished, and, ew! Slimy.

"Do you mind?" Xander asked his sister. "This was clean on just a few hours ago. Now it's all icky."

"Better your shirt than my hands," Buffy retorted. "I need a bath," she announced to the world.

"Um, guys?" Willow called. "We've got company," she added, pointing at the four people running towards them.

Giles looked at the group, then noticed something. He stepped forward, and tugged the back of Xander's undershirt out of his pants, handily covering his probably-illegal knife. He then stepped up to stand between Xander and Buffy, the three of them standing so that Willow and Tara were partially hidden behind them.

The group jogged up to the fallen man. The woman knelt beside him, and checked his pulse before looking up, and shaking her head. Gently, she closed his eyes before standing up again. One of the group, the smallest male, walked forward cautiously. "Um, hi," he greeted, smiling. "We were just, uh, trying to catch up with, um Conrad here, but obviously we were too late. Which is really … sad. But, well, I just wanted to know if you were all okay. Because he, uh, wasn't well."

"Yeah," Xander grimace. "That was quite a loogie he coughed up before he kicked up his heels," he indicated, holding up the squirming shirt.

The strangers looked at the indicated parcel with awe. "You caught it?" the woman asked.

Xander shrugged. "Got lucky. He wasn't standing as close as he thought he was, I guess."

The woman glanced at the oldest member of the group, then went on. "Well, that's good. It's quite contagious," she added. "So I'll just take that off your hands," she went on, reaching for the bundle.

Xander stepped back, glancing at Buffy and Giles. Buffy, he noticed, was fixated on the large, dark-skinned man at the rear of the group. Giles, on the other hand, simply nodded towards the group. Xander tilted his head, and glared at the older man, but Giles simply repeated the gesture, with a little more emphasis. Xander rolled his eyes, and held out the shirt for the woman to take.

"Well, that's great," the leader of the group nodded. "And we'll reimburse you for the shirt." He fished into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, from which her retrieved a business card. "Those are my contact details. Just call me, and we'll get a cheque for you, okay?"

Xander frowned at the shirt now in what appeared to be official custody, and nodded, reaching for the card. "Yeah. Don't think I want that shirt back again." Behind him, he heard a soft 'No, siree, you don't,' from Willow, and smiled. The other group nodded their farewell, and turned to leave, immediately beginning a whispered discussion amongst themselves, while Xander checked the card. He blinked, and read it again. "Uh, Giles," he murmured, elbowing the other man. "Does that say what I think it says?"

Giles took the card and read it. He coughed, and took his glasses off in preparation to clean them, but then realised his other hand was occupied. Xander took the card back so that he could happily clean his glasses.

"Well?" Xander hissed.

"Oh, yes. Well. Um. You could try calling him," Giles suggested.

Xander nodded decisively. "Hey, um, Colonel O'Neill?" he called.

"I meant tomorrow," Giles hissed. "On the phone."

"Oops?" Xander offered, and quickly released the card when it was imperiously twitched out of his hand by his blonde sister, who inspected it through narrowed eyes before passing it on to their red-haired sister.

"Yeah?" Colonel O'Neill called back. Glancing back at his group, he turned and walked back to the Scoobies while the woman and the man who had fascinated Buffy kept going. The smallest man kept their possible father company as he walked back. "There a problem?"

"Um, kind of?" Xander tried. "Maybe?"

"So what is it, kid?"

Xander quickly looked at the others, but Buffy simply indicated for him to keep talking, while Giles simply rolled his eyes. "Well, are you the only Jack O'Neill in Colorado Springs? That you know of, of course."

"I'm the only one that I know of," Jack admitted. "It's a fair sized city, though. There maybe others?"

Xander winced at Willow's sharp poke, and bent his head to her hissed whisper. He nodded, and looked at the man across from him. "Are you, like, forty or something?" He bent his head again, and corrected. "Uh, _at least_ forty, I should say."

Jack smirked. "Yes, I am _at least_ forty. Why?"

"Uh," Xander could feel himself blushing, and thanked the less-than-perfect street lighting for hiding what bright daylight never would. "Well, um... Were you kind of..." He trailed off, looking dismally at Giles.

"What the children would like to know is if you were … sowing your wild oats, shall we say," he turned back to Willow and bent his head to her whispers, "early- to mid-1980?"

"Early- to mid-1980?" Jack asked. "That's kind of vague, isn't it? I'd've thought you'd have a narrower timeline for me to get someone pregnant. Especially if they're _wild_ oats."

"If it were only one child, yes, I'm sure we could narrow it down, but it's three. Scattered over a six month period."

Jack's friend gaped at him. "Jack!" he whispered, apparently scandalised. "Sam is going to have a fit!"

"Oh, come on," Jack protested. "It was twenty years ago. And I used a condom, I swear!"

"And yet here we are," Buffy muttered.

Xander shrugged. "Faulty batch?"

Tara tapped Giles on the shoulder, and whispered, "There are other ways. Just because he used a condom, someone may have wanted him to have children."

Giles nodded, then looked at the other man. "Yes, well, it's getting late, so we'll call you tomorrow about this, shall we?"

"I don't think so," Jack shook his head. "You're saying I have three kids I knew nothing about. I think we should go back to my base, tonight, and discuss this further."

Xander glanced at Buffy, and knew this was not going to go well. They'd had enough trouble recently with the military, and if they were not careful, Buffy would expose herself in helping them get away. So he smiled, and stepped forward, hands out and empty, looking as harmless as he could manage. "Look, we're really tired. We've come a long way, and all that. I've got your card, so..." Just then, he made contact with Jack and Daniel, took a breath, and concentrated on a feeling. "_Abstrudo_," he commanded, and both the men flew backwards. He turned to see the other four staring at him. "Well?" he demanded. "Run!" With that, they took the hint, and ran.

* * *

><p>Jack moaned, and began to push himself up off the ground. "What the hell? What just happened there?"<p>

"I don't know, but when he touched us, he said 'push' in Latin, and it felt like I was pushed really hard."

"He _said_ 'push' but he didn't actually push us?" Jack clarified.

"I don't think he could have pushed us so hard if he just did it himself. Maybe if he'd pushed me, he might have, but he … pushed both of us at the same time."

Jack looked in the direction the other group had disappeared. "Huh. What do you think? Goa'uld weapon? Not one I'm familiar with."

"Latin is very similar to Ancient," Daniel frowned. "Possibly they've managed to acquire some Ancient technology, and, uh, got it to work with Latin?"

"Ah, hell," Jack groaned.


	3. Initiative? What Initiative?

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

* * *

><p><em>In which, our heroes discover they have military records. And someone's boyfriend is about to get a serious talking to. Seriously. And what's the guy version of 'the town bike?'<em>

* * *

><p>"Right," Jack growled. "We need to find two men and three women, possibly arrived in Colorado Springs in the last few days. Three of them appear to be claiming to be my children, and at least one of them may have access to Ancient technology."<p>

Sam sat back, shocked. "How?" she demanded. "I mean, what kind of tech? What happened." She turned back to her computer to begin a search of hotel bookings, but then stopped. "Wait. What? Children?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah. Three adult children, born late-1980, early-1981."

Sam turned back to her computer and worked on the search for a few minutes. "Three children born in, what? A six to nine month period?"

"Uh, yeah?" Jack tried.

"My God, sir, did you never hear of a condom?" Sam asked, staring at him.

"I used condoms," Jack protested. "Every time. I was not ready for kids at the time, so I always used them."

"Uh huh," the scientist grunted as she returned to her screen. "Okay, Rupert Giles booked two rooms for a week. You could fit two men and three women in there, if two of the women didn't mind sharing a bed. Or some combination," she added.

"Good," Jack sat forward to look at the screen. "Did he pay by credit card?"

"Yep, and it traces back to … Sunnydale. Mr Rupert Giles is … a British national with a Green Card, and… Oh."

"Oh?"

"A file."

"Sam," Jack ground out in warning.

"Give me a few," she muttered absently. "Go have dinner. Or something."

Jack glared at the screen, but knew it could take a while, so stalked out of his team-mate's office. Maybe, if he was lucky, there was a jello bowl with his name on it.

* * *

><p>"What are we going to do now?" Buffy asked as she paced the guys' suite. "That was our dad, maybe, and now we find out that he's working on some base where they're working on demons? 'Cause that big guy was twigging my Slaydar, too, you know. The Initiative is not over. They just packed up and moved to Colorado, where they got my dad involved, and I don't like it," she snarled.<p>

"Okay, first up?" Xander began. "Not certain he's our dad. Second, um, a little help here?" he asked looking around.

"And you mojoed him," Buffy accused, whirling on him.

"I _pushed_ him, Buffy," Xander dismissed. "I had my hands on their chests, and I pushed. That's all they'll remember. Hopefully."

"You sent them flying twenty feet!" Buffy returned. "They're going to remember that."

"Maybe not," Willow suggested. "They looked like they hit the ground pretty hard. Which, admitted, not the best thing to do to our dad, if he is our dad, and you will be apologising for that, mister," she added, nodding anxiously at Xander.

"If they remember, I'll apologise," Xander nodded. "Otherwise it raises too many questions."

"So what now, Watcher Mine," Buffy asked.

"Well, now I think we should go to bed. It's late, and I believe tomorrow shall be a busy day. Tomorrow we can look for other Jack O'Neills in Colorado Springs. If necessary, we'll contact him. Willow, I think you ended up with his card?" When the redhead nodded, he continued. "Buffy, maybe you should call Riley and ask him what he knows of a project in Colorado Spring, possibly involved with demons. Did you mention your father's name to him when you spoke to him last?"

"No," she shook her head. "I told him we were looking for our father, but didn't tell him the guy's name."

"How did he react to us all being related?" Xander asked, curious.

"He said that it was just typical," Buffy smirked. "It is the Hellmouth, after all."

Giles nodded. "Well, when you talk to him, see if the name means anything to him." When she nodded, he went on. "Very well, then. I think we should all try to get some sleep." Good nights were wished, and the girls retreated to their suite. Giles turned to the young man sharing his suite. "I understand why you did it, but I wish you hadn't exposed yourself like that," he offered, frowning.

"It was the quickest and most effective thing I could think of at the time," Xander shrugged.

"It was that," Giles smirked. "Why did you choose that word?"

"'_Abstrudo_'?" Xander asked. "It means 'push away,' which is what I wanted. Tara said you had to be clear, direct, so I figured that if I used the right word, and only that word, it was my best bet of working."

"So I take it your command of Latin is pretty good?" Giles asked mildly.

Xander made a face at the older man. "Four years of dusty books, very few of which, I might add, are written in modern English, and a guy's Latin gets … competent. Not something I ever thought I'd have to admit."

"Yes," Giles smiled. "I dare say the thought of yet another apocalypse does tend to, er, energise the mind."

"Oh, ha ha," Xander scowled as he grabbed his pyjamas and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>SG1 were gathered in Sam's office, going through the information the scientist had accumulated so far, when they were summoned to the General's office. When they arrived, they found Major Paul Davis already entrenched, files scattered about in front of him. Greetings were made, and they settled down to business.<p>

"Right," Paul began, "I'm here to talk about a group of people who have arrived in Colorado Springs in the last day or so, and who, given your and their propensity for getting into trouble, you'll probably meet at some point while they're here." He clicked a remote, and brought up a group of head-shots. When Paul saw the recognition on team's faces, he sighed. "Typical," he muttered. "You've already met them, haven't you?"

"Yep," Jack nodded absently. "We were out hunting a Goa'uld at the time, so didn't have much time for a chat, but definitely met them."

"Can I ask why you're telling us about them?" Sam asked. "They're just kids, for the most part," she added. "What's so special about them?"

"Four of the five of them took down an NID operation. That impressive enough for you?" Paul smirked.

Jack sat up and grinned broadly. Then frowned. "Wait. What are they doing getting involved in an NID operation?"

"Their home town is a hot-spot for a certain kind of activity which the NID got involved in," Paul explained. "And, no, I'm not going to explain any further than that. There was a sanctioned operation, which was bad enough, but the rogue operation nearly did us all in. As it was, without this group, the whole thing would have gone down with one hundred percent losses." His audience displayed their professionally muted displays of shock, then he went on. "Not to mention what would have happened if the … results had broken containment."

He cleared his throat, and opened a folder as he clicked the remote again. "Okay. Buffy Summers. She's the leader of this merry band, as far as we can tell. Just for reference, in Goa'uld terms, she would be a hok'taur. She is stronger, faster, more agile, and heals faster than probably anyone here. Moving on," he clicked the remote, "we have Dr Rupert Giles, British national and permanent resident. He is her trainer and guide, as far as we can tell. Next is Willow Rosenberg." A new picture was shown. "She attends UC Sunnydale with Miss Summers, and has special … abilities that she uses to help Miss Summers. And finally, Mr Harris."

Paul sat back and frowned at the young man's photo. "Honestly, we don't know what to make of Mr Harris. He has no known training or skills, and is one year out of high school, and has worked dead-end jobs since returning to Sunnydale after a Summer road trip which apparently didn't go far. That said, he accompanied Miss Summers into a secure NID base twice before the final showdown, and assisted in the rescue of two of their friends on the second incursion. As far as anyone can tell, there is nothing special about him at all, other than his pure stubbornness to not let 'his girls' go on alone." He pondered the problem a moment before clicking on the remote once more.

"Finally, Tara Maclay. She doesn't have a file of her own, but is mentioned only in reference to Miss Rosenberg. Apparently they are lovers, and she has similar … talents to Miss Rosenberg, though she has been in training much longer, from what we were able to gather. She was there when the others went in to shut things down, but it seems that she was only peripherally involved while the others did … whatever. Miss Maclay is only a recent addition to the group. Miss Rosenberg and Mr Harris are lifetime residents of the town, while Miss Summers and Dr Giles arrived there four to five years ago." Paul set down the remote, and looked expectantly at the group.

Jack looked at his team, and then at Davis. "Just how bad was this thing? You talk about preventing total losses, but what was the result?"

"Forty percent losses were acknowledged," Paul nodded sombrely.

"Forty percent," Sam hissed. "And that was the good result?"

"Without the rogue part of the operation, there probably wouldn't have been any losses," Paul shrugged. "Or at least, they would have been minimal. This group probably would have shut them down, anyway, because what was sanctioned probably shouldn't have been anyway, but the losses were directly caused by the rogue part of the operation. Of that there is no doubt."

"Okay, fine," Jack nodded. "So why are you even here talking to us about them?"

"When the base was shut down, they were allowed to go back their lives in peace. Essentially, this whole thing has been wiped. The survivors have been placed elsewhere, anyone who wanted out was given an honourable discharge without any problem whatsoever. All records have been wiped, except for a few, very well-hidden sets. This thing is a ghost. The core group, the four that I spoke about, all have sealed records, and have been under surveillance ever since this thing was shut down. They probably will remain under surveillance for a long time, just in case. So when the core group just ups and leaves home, certain people got nervous. When it turned out they were coming here, for reasons unexplained, said people got _very_ nervous at the thought of them meeting up with SG1, which was pretty much a given, all things considered, and felt that it would be best if you were briefed about them. So. How did it happen?" he asked, relaxing back into his seat.

Jack glanced at his team again, then nodded. "We were tracking a minor Goa'uld that _someone_ had managed to let loose. By the time we got to them, Harris had the Goa'uld trapped in his shirt. I think, but I can't confirm this, that Summers caught it somehow. She was still rubbing her hands, and making faces," he added, smirking.

Sam took up the story. "Harris suggested the Goa'uld was further away then he realised when he attempted to swap hosts, but, from what we know of them, I don't think that's feasible. But for Miss Summers to grab a Goa'uld out of the air..."

"I did compare her to a hok'taur," Paul reminded her.

Sam shrugged. "Anyway, Harris eventually gave it up, though I don't think he really wanted to."

Paul nodded. "Given their experiences with the NID, I'm not entirely surprised. Though the snake's aggression towards the group may have swayed things in your favour. Anything else happen once you got it?"

"We were heading back to the car when Harris called me," Jack explained. He grinned. "You're going to love this bit. Turns out they're here looking for their biological father, one Jack O'Neill, from Colorado Springs."

Paul blinked. "Tell me you're kidding, Colonel. Please," he begged.

"Nope," Jack smirked. "And it gets better," he announced proudly. "It seems the three of them are half-siblings, all with the same father."

Paul whimpered, then cleared the table in front of him, and laid his head down gently, before banging it repeatedly against the table-top.

* * *

><p>"Right," Paul muttered. "We go in, introduce ourselves, and <em>nicely<em>," he emphasised, glaring at the Colonel, "nicely ask them to join us for lunch. We _nicely_ explain what's going on, and we see about establishing paternity."

"Can't we go in guns blazing?" Jack whined.

Paul glared at the other man. "Okay," he temporised, "apart from the whole issue of them being your children, possibly, what part of 'hok'taur' and 'faster and stronger' are you just not getting. Apart from any issues of Rosenberg and Maclay's … skills, not to mention, God help us, Harris possibly having power?" He shuddered. "Do not, under any circumstances, threaten Rosenberg or Maclay. Apart from the fact that they could easily defeat you by themselves, Harris would likely tear you into teeny tiny pieces for the insult. He's very protective, even if the people he's protecting don't need it."

"But … fun!" Jack offered.

"But … get you killed!" Paul countered.

Jack scowled and sighed, then grinned. Teasing Major Davis was fun. "Okay," he conceded. "Let's play nice." With that, he knocked on the door. And waited. And knocked again. And waited some more. He was about to knock a third time when the door swung open to reveal a not-quite-awake young man.

Seeing who was at the door was enough to awaken him fully. "Now, I know we never gave you our address," he observed, keeping the door half-closed. "Why are you here?"

"That would be his fault," Jack nodded affably, pointing at Major Davis. "Well, that is to say, we were trying to find out what we could about you, and all that, when the good Major turned up with your nice little files."

Xander turned to look at the somewhat guilty looking Pentagon liaison. "We have files?" he asked carefully.

"Uh, yes," Paul nodded. "Because of your recent adventures."

Xander glanced at the others, then turned back to Paul. "What have you told them about all that?"

"Actually, I've managed to be remarkably vague about the details. I had to tell them about your group, and that you are special, but I've managed to be quite light on the details," he reported smugly.

Xander nodded, then stepped back from the door. "Someone make some coffee. I'll get dressed, and get the others up." With that, he simply walked away. SG1 stared at him, but Paul, having been briefed on Sunnydale, entered and made his way to the kitchenette. He was swiftly followed by Daniel, who insisted on doing it properly, and the rest of the team followed him in.

Having satisfied himself that the coffee was well under way, Danny looked around and saw the book open on the table. He glanced at it, then promptly sat down and began to read.

"Don't lose Giles' page," Xander warned as he walked back from the girls' suite. "You don't want him cranky at you."

"No, no," Danny murmured. "So he reads Latin?"

Xander stopped and snorted. "I think we all read Latin. I mean, it's kind of basic, isn't it? Thank the gods I don't need to know Linear B. Giles showed it to me one time." He shuddered.

Daniel looked over at his friend and Commanding Officer. "I want him!" he announced.

Xander stared at the scholar, and then looked also at Jack. "Tell me he means that in a book-geek kind of way."

"He means it in a book-geek kind of way," Jack smirked. "And, besides," he added, looking at his friend, "he might very well be my son. That means I get to play with explosives with him."

"No," Buffy declared as she wandered into the room. "We do not allow Xander to play with the explosive devices. He gets this look on his face, and it's really not something I need to see."

Sam looked at the possible relatives and shook her head. "Holy Hannah," she muttered. "Do we really need a blood test?"

* * *

><p>Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. So I remember Joyce," he smiled at Buffy. "So how about you two?" he went on, looking at Xander and Willow.<p>

Xander handed over a photo of his mother. Jack picked it up, frowning, then grinned. "Oh yeah. Kel Lavelle," he pronounced. "That was a fun Summer."

Xander looked at the man, wide-eyed. "Uh, no. That's my mom, Jessica Harris. And you couldn't possibly have known my mom in the Summer, 'cause I'm an Autumn baby, and one thing no one's ever said about me is that I'm early for anything. Not even my birth."

Jack waved the photo. "Seriously? 'Cause I would swear blind that was Kelly."

Xander glanced at Willow, beginning to sweat. "No. Definitely not Kelly. Jessica. But, um, her surname was Lavelle. You know, before she was married. And I have an Aunt Kelly. In Pasadena."

Sam gasped. "You slept with a married woman?" she chided, aghast.

"I didn't know she was married. I don't sleep with married women. But, um, Jessica Lavelle. Nope. Don't remember." He squinted at the photo. "But I, er, do remember a Jess Harris." He cleared his throat nervously. "Not that I knew she was married," he added.

"No," Xander shrugged, "that's okay. The 'rents never had a good marriage. Mom would wander off to LA for a week or two, come back, and Dad would scream at her for a couple of days, and they'd be good. Or, well, as good as they ever got. Not sure why they're still together."

Willow shifted nervously. "Um, well, Mom and Dad always said that the Lavelle girls were never any good. And I know I was adopted," she added.

"You were?" Buffy asked, surprised. She looked at Xander, who nodded.

"She told me when we were kids. You never said who, though," he added, looking at Willow.

"That's 'cause I don't know," Willow shrugged. "But I, um, I was born in May, 1981. So, you know, I would have been conceived in the Summer."

"Oh," Buffy moaned. "Someone please tell me my mind is working overtime, and reality is nothing like I'm thinking."

"Your mind is working overtime, and reality is nothing like you're thinking," Willow and Xander chorused.

"Oh, dear Lord," Giles murmured before he dropped his head to the table.

* * *

><p>"So," Buffy smiled sweetly into the phone. "Want to tell me, lover mine, why Giles, Will, Xan and I have military records?"<p>

Back in Sunnydale, Riley choked on his drink.


	4. So, Does That Make Them Evil Lite?

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

* * *

><p><em>In which, our heroes meet the Tok'ra.<em>

* * *

><p>"So," Sam began, "Jack managed to get both Lavelle sisters pregnant?"<p>

"Um, yep?" Xander guessed.

"Are, uh," Danny hesitated, "are there any more?"

"No," Xander declared decisively. "Just the two. Huh," he added thoughtfully. "That makes two for two."

"Quite," Giles murmured. "I'm sure we all need to hear how your father … 'scored'."

"I can't believe you slept with two women so similar," Sam grumbled at her CO, "and didn't even connect the dots."

"And moving on," Jack decided, rolling his eyes. "We've got the blood tests running to verify paternity, though some people don't really think it's necessary," he added, smirking at his 2IC, "and then we need to decide -"

"Unscheduled off-world activation," the speaker intoned.

"Oh, thank God," Jack muttered.

* * *

><p>Buffy paced anxiously around the room, while Xander chewed on a hangnail. Willow was attempting to meditate with Tara, but it didn't seem to be working too well. Giles sat in his seat and frowned at the three young people, unsure why all of them were tense.<p>

"Buffy, would you please sit down?" Giles begged. "Your pacing is giving me a headache."

"Can't," Buffy answered tensely. "Got that icky-ooky feeling again."

"That's what it is," Xander muttered, looking at the blonde. "I was trying to figure out what was wrong. I was wondering if it was because we're so far underground, but it's that feeling again. Like the snake-dude from last night."

Willow shuddered. "Yeah, there's definitely that going on. But there's also something else. Like … the Hellmouth, kind of, but not quite. Not evil and grabby like that, but sort of drawing and twisty. You know?" she asked plaintively.

Xander closed his eyes, and tilted his head in thought. "Yeah. Kind of. It's really faint, though. So what is it? A not-Hellmouth?"

"Well," Willow began, frowning slightly, "a Hellmouth is a weakening in the dimensional barriers, leading to a Hell dimension. Um, maybe this place has a weakening to other not-Hell dimensions? Like a portal that they travel through?"

"So we're talking Initiative again?" Buffy asked tensely.

"Maybe," Xander nodded. "But I don't think so. Major Davis seemed pretty clear that these guys don't know anything about what goes bump."

"So if it's not demons, then what?" Buffy asked. "Little green men? Would that explain my wiggins with snake-dude and Mr Murray?" she asked, turning to Giles.

"Aliens?" Giles asked. "I highly doubt it."

"So we can have demons, but not aliens," Xander teased. "And that voice said 'unscheduled _off-world_ activation,' not 'unscheduled, uh, _cross-dimensional_ activation,'" he added wisely.

"Oh!" Willow jumped up. "That could be it! They could have stable wormhole technology, and are making contact with alien life-forms."

Xander frowned. "Okay, but are we talking _'My Favourite Martian'_, or _'Aliens'_?"

"Actually," Giles interposed mildly, "it is generally accepted that the monster from that movie is a misidentified khasharr demon."

"Huh. So the _'Aliens'_ monster is a demon. But what about what they have here? Like snake-dude? I mean, he's like that ghoold demon from the ancient Egyptian Watcher diary that … I … am not admitting to have read," Xander finished, eyeing the older man warily.

"You read the Watchers Diaries?" Willow pouted. "Without me?"

"Uh, no?" Xander tried.

"Which diaries are those?" Giles asked, curious.

"They're the ones that are stuck at the back of the shelves. 'Cause they're written in demotic, which you said one time you don't read."

"And how do you read demotic?" Giles asked, eyebrow raised.

"I thought it was kind of cool, so I tried to learn hieroglyphics?" Xander explained, twisting his hands nervously. "But you don't have anything in hieroglyphics, so I ended up learning demotic, 'cause the diaries are written in demotic."

"So can you read hieroglyphics as well?"

"A little. Not much, 'cause I didn't have any practice material." Xander sighed. "See, this is why I don't say things. 'Cause I know you're going to start making me do other things, aren't you."

Giles sighed. "I don't know why you insist on hiding your intelligence."

"Oh, there's a whole ton of languages I don't know," Xander dismissed. "I mean, according to you, I barely even speak English."

"Quite so," Giles nodded, smiling slightly. "So that makes how many languages you know?"

"Less than Willow," Xander advised, folding his arms stubbornly.

"Very well," Giles conceded, sighing.

"So, Willow, about this stable wormhole technology," Xander turned brightly to his red-haired sister. "What's with that?"

"Um, it's kind of like a portal spell, but with science," Willow explained. "Which means they would need some kind of device to create the portal, or, uh, maintain the event horizon, if we're wanting to be scientific."

Xander tilted his head, confused. "So a, uh, star portal could be stable wormhole technology?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," Willow shrugged, as if it was obvious. "Where did you get that term, anyway?"

"The Watchers Diary that I read. Sadji, Woserit's Watcher, mentioned driving the demon-gods back through the star portal. Woserit led the battle, but fell before they succeeded. He finished her war, then retired to finish her chronicle. I don't know what happened to him after that."

"So we might have stories of aliens in the Watchers Diaries?" Buffy asked, frowning. "Why don't I ever find these stories. They sound much better than Joseph Fairbanks' whiny little story about Mary Little, who wouldn't plait her hair like a proper female should."

"That would be because it's written in demotic, remember?" Xander teased. "And who here reads demotic?" he asked, raising his hand. When no one else raised their hands, he looked around, surprised. "Huh," was his only comment.

"Wasn't on my cool list," Willow apologised. "There now, of course."

Giles sighed. "I'm surrounded by children who learn languages simply because they're on their cool list," he muttered.

"Better than not learning them at all," Tara suggested, smiling softly.

* * *

><p>Major Davis squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and prepared himself before opening the door. "Hi, everyone," he greeted, smiling. "How are you today? Can I get you anything? Have you had lunch yet?"<p>

Xander's belly took the opportunity to answer the last question first, much to his personal embarrassment.

"Okay," Paul grinned. "I'll take that as a no. I can take you to the mess hall so you can get something to eat, and then I'll try to answer any questions you might have."

"Are you going to be able to answer questions about this place?" Buffy asked as they walked along the hall. "You know, about what they do here?"

"Well, I may need to get extra authorisation for that, and you'd probably need to sign some documentation – non-disclosure agreements to be specific. I don't think it will be that hard to get authorisation, though, considering your relationship to Colonel O'Neill. The thought of him having living offspring is probably going to make someone happy, though that won't necessarily be me. I know what he's like, and I've heard what you're like, and I really don't need that level of antacids and hair dye in my life at this point in time, thank you very much."

"Hey!" Buffy protested. "We're not that bad."

"As someone who had not a single grey strand before I arrived in Sunnydale, I believe I would come down on Major Davis' side, if you don't mind," Giles admitted, smile tugging at his lips.

"And if we were to, say, throw a few terms or concepts around?" Willow suggested.

Paul frowned. "Such as?"

"Stable wormhole technology?" Willow offered.

"Star portal?" was Xander's contribution.

Buffy frowned. "Uh, what was it? Goolies?"

"Ghoold," Giles corrected, "though that may vary with dialect."

"Uh," Paul began, eyes wide. "Shit," he muttered. He sighed. "Okay. We'll get lunch, but then I have to go talk to people, possibly make some phone calls."

* * *

><p>Jack watched Major Davis with some trepidation. On one hand, it was very likely that he was here to drag him away from the 'lovely' Anise. On the other, Major Davis being so pale after dealing with his kids wasn't a good sign at all. What had they gotten into now? And now he was in a whispered conversation with the General. Not good.<p>

Jack pulled away from his conversation with the Tok'ra, and headed over to the General and the Major. "Anything I should know?" he asked quietly.

"Your kids are freaky?" Paul asked, shaken.

"Hey!" Jack hissed.

"They know. They've worked it out. Stable wormhole technology, the Stargate, and the Goa'uld. And you know how I know they actually worked it out? They didn't use the phrases Stargate or Goa'uld. They called it 'star portal' and, uh, something like Goa'uld, but not quite."

Jack frowned. "How would they even have access to this? Is it something to do with that stuff they're into? That you won't tell me about?"

"Maybe," Paul frowned. "Apparently they have access to stuff that would make Dr Jackson drool, and your kids have been researching since high school. It's possible that they have come across alternate versions of the texts about the Goa'uld invasion and the rebellion against Ra."

"You have other sources of information about the Tok'ra?" Anise asked, leaning into the conversation.

"Uh," Paul quickly glanced at Jack and General Hammond, "we may have come across some people who may have access to alternate histories, including texts about the Goa'uld and Ra, but, frankly, the SGC doesn't have the clearance at the moment to know too much about it."

"Then get clearance," Anise dismissed. "If there is more information, we want it."

"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that, Anise," General Hammond frowned. "We are not the ones who control who has clearance for what. I'm sure that the Tok'ra, with their own security concerns, would be able to appreciate that."

"As your allies," Anise scowled, "one would expect a little more co-operation."

"If it comes to that, sir," Paul murmured to General Hammond, "I do believe that … our guests would be more than capable of dealing with the Tok'ra."

General Hammond regarded Major Davis, then his second-in-command. "Very well. Have them sign the NDA's, talk to them briefly, then bring them in."

* * *

><p>"Merciful Zeus," Xander muttered, wide-eyed. "What is that? An alien wonder-bra?" He grunted when Buffy smacked him, and turned to scowl at the girl. "You'll notice that Willow didn't hit me."<p>

"That's because Willow was too busy ogling the alien to hit you," Buffy noted smugly. "Tara hit her, instead."

"Still," Xander shook his head, "I stand by my comment."

"Who are these children?" Anise sneered. "And why are they here?"

"Actually, these are my children," Jack announced proudly. "Well, three of them, anyway. The taller blonde isn't mine," he added conscientiously. "She's a sweetheart, though. Which probably proves that she isn't mine," he added with a wink to Tara.

"Can say that again," Danny muttered. All three offspring heard him, and scowled at him, causing him to snigger. "Sorry," he apologised between snorts. "You're just so much your father's kids."

"Okay," Xander nodded. "Can't fault that one."

Anise examined Xander thoroughly. "You are Jack O'Neill's son?" she interrogated.

"Uh, yeah," Xander answered cautiously.

Anise slunk forward, smirking. "I am interested in mating with an appropriate male, and your father has very good genes. I wondered -"

Wide-eyed, Jack grabbed Anise, and steered her away from his son. "And that's a really bad idea," he announced.

"Oh, yeah," Willow muttered. "She's evil."

"Hey!" Xander protested. "Not all women attracted to me are evil." When both his sisters glared at him, he opened his mouth to argue further. Thought about it. Shut his mouth. Tried again. Shut his mouth again. "Willow wasn't evil," he tried finally.

"Willow is your half-sister," Buffy countered. "And your cousin. Which, frankly? Ew!"

"Not my fault," Xander whined.

"That tone sounds familiar," Danny murmured to Sam.

"It does," Sam nodded.

Anise cleared her throat to regain the centre of attention. "I wish to see these histories you spoke of."

"You can't," Xander blurted out. "Uh… They're written in demotic."

"You read demotic?" Danny asked, excited.

Xander gained a deer-in-the-headlights expression, and stepped back behind his sisters. "Uh … maybe?" he squeaked.

"Hieroglyphics, also," Giles smirked. "Though not well, apparently."

"Are you self-taught?" Danny asked excitedly. "I noticed you only had a high school education, and I doubt they taught ancient languages there -"

"They barely taught English," Giles muttered.

"So I'm guessing you taught yourself?" Danny continued, ignoring the other man.

"Jack!" Xander whined. "Tell him he can't have me."

"You can't have him," Jack ordered. "If I can't play 'let's blow stuff up' with him, you can't have him for your geek collection."

"Who said that?" Xander demanded.

"Your sister," Jack shrugged. "Uh, Buffy. She complained about the look you get on your face."

"It's hereditary," Sam added, smirking at Giles.

"Why are we talking about this?" Anise demanded. "I want those histories. I demand that you provide the histories. We have the ability to translate from your ancient languages, so that is no barrier to their supply."

Willow peered at the blonde alien. "You know, you really should stamp your foot when you talk like that," she suggested.

"Besides which," Giles dismissed, "these documents are part of a private collection, owned by a private organisation of foreign citizenship. You have no grounds to compel the SGC to supply them, as they have no access to the documents your wish for."

"But I want them," Anise demanded, trying out the foot stamp.

The room fell silent, except for a few muffled sniggers.

* * *

><p>"I wonder if the chip classes the Tok'ra as human," Buffy mused as she watched Anise walk off.<p>

Willow stared at her, goggle-eyed, while Xander squinted thoughtfully.

"Be worth a try," Xander decided.

"But..." Willow began. "Wouldn't that be cruel?"

"Who to?" Buffy asked, scrunching her nose.

"Uh..." Willow cast about, thinking. "Um... Oh. Jack. And, and … two wrongs don't make a right, and two snarky people don't cancel each other out."

"Yeah, but Spike annoying Anise – who wouldn't pay to see that?" Xander demanded. "Apart from the other Tok'ra, I mean. And we would take him home afterwards," he added conscientiously.

"Uh huh," Willow nodded. "And you're going to travel twenty hours, in a car, at night, with him? And spend the days sleeping in a hotel room with him? Depending on the season, you might even have to break the trip twice," she added.

Xander looked at her, aghast. "You're right," he decided after a moment. "Jack doesn't need that kind of aggravation."

* * *

><p><em>Sadji<em> – Narrate

_Woserit_ – Mighty woman

From http[:/]/kememou[.]com[/]names[.]html


	5. Seriously? You Got ET Here?

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

A/N: Okay, here's the deal. Theoretically, this would be set in June-ish 2000, which is just prior to Season 4, SG1, and 4 years prior to SGA, which is when the ATA gene starts getting talked about, from what I could find. BUT I need to talk about the ATA gene, so Thor is introducing the concept ahead of time. It took me this long to figure out how to introduce the damn thing without seriously manipulating timelines, etc.

* * *

><p><em>In which, our heroes meet the Roswell Greys. I mean, the Asgard.<em>

* * *

><p>"So that was the Tok'ra?" Xander asked, frowning.<p>

"Yep," Jack nodded.

"So they're, what?" Buffy wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. "Evil-lite?"

Jack snorted, then looked around the hallway quickly, grinning. "Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. Though, of course, they are our allies, and that is about all I can say on the matter, officially.

"So they're just like your big-bads, but they're good?" Xander confirmed. When their father nodded, Xander went on, trying to hide a grin. "It's like they have a soul!"

"Xander," Willow warned.

"Because they could be bad, but they choose to be good," Xander continued.

"Xander," Buffy growled.

Xander was struggling with his grin, but went on manfully. "Do they go all evil if they -"

"Finish that sentence, and I will hurt you," Buffy declared.

"What sentence?" Xander asked innocently.

Buffy's thunderous scowl indicated her desire to expound (or, at least, pound) the point, but she was prevented by a sudden, brilliant flash, and the sight of a being materialising in front of them.

"Uh, Will?" Xander began.

"Yeah, Xan?" Willow responded vaguely.

"Is that?"

"Uh huh."

"O'Neill, I have come to discuss…" Thor began, before faltering at the sight of the visitors. He blinked. "Oh. I see you have already met your children."

Jack frowned. "My children?" he asked carefully. "You already knew I had children?"

"Yes. We found some of Loki's old records, and it indicated that you have three children, two to identical twins. All of them appear to come from bloodlines that appear to hold great power, but the source and type of power is … not something I am familiar with."

"Xander," Jack studied his fingernails, "was there something you neglected to tell me about your mother and your aunt?"

"Well, if by 'neglected' you mean 'didn't know', then yes, yes I did," Xander nodded decisively.

Buffy screwed up her nose. "Um, Will, if your moms were identical twins, what does that make you and Xan?"

"Genetically, that makes us full siblings. Jack," Willow went on, "you had sex with identical twins and you didn't even notice?"

"They had different names. And, and … it was months apart!" Jack excused.

"Uh huh," Buffy commented, eyebrow raised disbelievingly. "So," she continued, turning to Thor, "Mr Roswell Grey. Who are you? What are you? And how do you know about us?"

"I am Thor," he bowed slightly, "Supreme Commander of the Asgard fleet, and your father's friend. As for how I know, as I said, we managed to access Loki's records. It appears that he manipulated your liaisons with several women, including a pair of identical twins, to see if he could breed for certain traits."

Xander blinked at the little alien, then turned to Willow, who shrugged. He turned back to his father. "Okay, I'll bite. Thor, Asgard, and I believe I heard the name Loki. And I have to say, not liking Trickster types after a certain Halloween. If you've got someone named Janus hanging around, I have first dibs on him."

"The hell you do," Buffy snorted. "You're not the one who got turned into Lady Helpless."

Xander considered the point, and nodded. "Fair enough. But I get him after you."

"If there's anything left," Buffy agreed cordially.

Thor peered at the young people. "Your genetic information appears to be quite dominant," he observed.

Xander tilted his head. "You know, I think that's possibly the nicest way that's been put so far."

"He's nice like that," Jack nodded. "And he likes me. But Paul was right: you kids are weird. What's this about Janus? Do you know a Goa'uld named Janus?"

"No," Willow chirped. "He's a god."

"No," Jack explained helpfully, "the Goa'uld call themselves gods, but they're just parasites infecting hosts."

"Uh, no," Buffy shook her head. "Janus is a god. Gods really exist," she added helpfully.

"They're part of the magic/demons/Hellmouth thing," Xander added, smiling.

"The … ?" Jack prompted dazedly.

Xander turned to his sisters. "We covered that, didn't we? Didn't we talk about that?"

"Yeah," Buffy drawled, "not so much. And if we're going to do this, we really need to get back to our rooms. Giles is so much better at this than we are. It's the accent," she added to Jack.

"And the tweed," Xander nodded.

"The glasses help," Willow noted. "With the cleaning, and the 'oh, dear lord-ing.'"

* * *

><p>Giles looked up, surprised, when the door opened. The Colonel had taken his children to the Infirmary for a few more tests, and they weren't expected back for a while. Dr Jackson had arrived shortly after the others had left, bearing some books, and wanting to discuss odd legends. Now here they were, back again, and with … a demon?<p>

"Hey, Giles," Buffy chirped. "We haven't done the weird-and-wonderful chat yet. They don't seem to know anything about magic, demons, and all that."

"And since three of us, well, four if we include you, are big with the magic, we really should talk about that, too," Xander nodded.

"I see," Giles agreed carefully. "And our guest is?"

Xander smirked. "Giles, Tara, please meet Mr Grey."

Thor blinked. "That is not my name," he commented, confused.

"It's that sense of humour thing," Jack murmured. He cleared his throat. "What my son meant to say is 'I would like to introduce Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet.'"

"Yeah," Xander grinned. "That too."

Giles blinked, and stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Uh, am I to assume that your people have patterned yourselves after the old gods?"

Thor regarded the hand, then shook it as he had seen demonstrated other times, while Jack shook his head. "There are no gods, Giles," he explained gently.

Giles smiled gently. "Oh, but there are. Xander, here, has been considered to possibly be Janus' current avatar," he added, smirking.

Xander pouted. "I thought we weren't talking about that."

Jack frowned in thought. "Uh, why is that?" he wanted to know.

"Janus is the god of doors and gates, beginning and endings, and chaos," Giles explained. "Xander can bring quite a lot of chaos to a situation, which apparently amuses Janus quite a lot."

Thor squinted, and tilted his head in contemplation. "I did not consider that to be a genetic trait."

Giles squinted at Jack, much to the other man's discomfort. "Oh, dear Lord," he muttered, disgusted.

* * *

><p>General Hammond eyed the conference room table longingly. He knew, technically, that banging his head against it would not help the situation, but still… He already had to deal with one O'Neill. Were the gods (who actually existed – who knew?) really that unkind as to saddle him with another three? And, on top of that, magic existed. To go along with the myriad gods. He stroked the table-top absently. It was looking exceedingly good at the moment.<p>

"Just so we're clear," General Hammond began wearily, "magic exists, monsters exist, gods exist? And this is on top of the aliens that we already have to deal with?"

"There are already organisations, private and governmental, that deal with demons," Giles assured the other man. "It does not need to impinge greatly on your, uh, area of operations?"

"That'd be the phrase," Jack nodded.

"But…" Sam began hopelessly. "Magic! It's not real!"

Willow and Xander exchanged glanced, and grinned. Willow waved a hand, and a pencil flew across the table to Xander, who picked it up, whispered a word, and watched as it rose from his hand to float in the air. He glanced across the table again, then touched the pencil with a finger, as he whispered something else. The pencil flew across the table to Tara, who murmured an incantation, and the pencil scattered into a shower of sparks.

Buffy nodded, satisfied. "Yeah. Magic is so not real."

"But… How?" Sam demanded, dazed.

"Uh, which how?" Xander asked, puzzled. "How is it done? How is it only some people do it? What do you want to know?"

"Yes!" Sam nodded vigorously. "Exactly. How is it done? How come only some people can do it? Is there a genetic component, or does it require a lot of meditation?"

"Well," Willow frowned, "a lot of magic is to do with energy manipulations. Putting energy into things, or directing the energy of a thing. And it does seem to run in bloodlines. Tara's mother was a witch, and taught her magic. Xander and I both have it, though Xander only just found out recently, and by accident. He's good at contact magic apparently, while I learned other forms, which are harder."

Sam looked as though she was about to go further, when Giles stopped her. "You had something to say about that, Tara?" he asked gently.

The blonde ducked her head, blushing lightly at being the centre of attention. "I-it varies from p-person to p-person. X-xander has strong c-contact magic, but h-he should be able to l-learn o-other types. W-willow should be able to p-pick up c-contact magic, but m-may not be as s-strong. And X-xander should be a s-strong anchor, a w-well to d-draw from, if the three of us n-needed to c-combine for something."

Sam narrowed her eyes in thought. "So … you three have an inherent ability to manipulate energy fields? Interesting…" she mused, fading out of the conversation as she considered the possibilities.

"You should know that Jack has a strong expression of a gene sequence that comes from the Ancients," Thor offered thoughtfully. "That was part of what Loki was looking for – to see if it bred true. It could be that the Ancients' gene worked with the energy manipulation characteristics to breed as a strong ability in contact magic. Your son may also have a strong expression of the Ancients' gene, as may your daughters," he nodded to Jack.

"Or," Danny suggested excitedly, "could the Ancients' gene express as magic? Or what appears to be magic?"

"That brain thing seemed to start up, you know, kind of like magic," Jack shrugged.

"Interesting," Thor nodded.

"Sir, you're not seriously positing that magic is related to this Ancients' gene, are you?" Sam asked, scandalised.

"Um, maybe?" Jack tried.

"Magical ability is certainly known to follow certain bloodlines," Giles reasoned, "and Thor, himself, indicated that Loki was investigating certain … power that flowed along genetic lines. Surely if an, uh, advanced race such as the Asgard can acknowledge such a thing, then maybe you might consider the possibility?"

Sam blinked at the older man, but couldn't think of anything (right at _that_ moment) to use as an argument. Darn.

* * *

><p>Xander glared at the beautiful blonde who was currently making his life a misery. Of course it was a beautiful woman doing it – wasn't that the story of his life? From what Jack said, he had a romantic history that rivalled Dr Jackson; <em>so<em> not what he wanted. And right now he had a head full of electrodes measuring his brain activity. If only Snyder were still alive to see the wonder of the proof of the existence of his brain. Then again, not even that was worth the resurrection of the troll.

"Are we ready _yet_?" Xander growled.

Sam sighed. "As if there were any doubt of you being Jack's son," she muttered. "Okay," she added, louder, "if you could … try something with that pencil."

Xander scowled at the scientist, then worked his shoulders, trying to ease his tension while he thought of something less … impolite than his first thought of what to do with the pencil. Finally, he touched the pencil, and whispered, "_Ascendo_." The pencil rose off the table, and hovered mid-air.

Sam gaped at the pencil for a moment, then quickly checked the monitors. "Holy Hannah," she muttered. "There was a big surge in brain activity which," she typed in some commands, and checked the screens, "coincided with you giving the command."

Xander looked at her. "Well, duh!" he grunted. "That's, like, the twelfth time I've done this, and you act like it's the first time you've ever seen it."

"I know," Sam began, "it's just … it's magic! And magic isn't supposed to be real. And if you try Clarke's Law with me again, young man," she added, threateningly.

"Do I at least get a Twinkie now?" Xander whined. "Please?"

Sam sighed, then fished out the snack cake before tossing it to the brunet. As she moved around to remove the electrodes from Xander's head, he proceeded to croon lovingly to the snack cake, patting it before carefully removing it from it's wrapper.

"That is extremely disturbing, did you know that?" Sam asked, a little queasy at the display.

"Well, duh," Xander smirked.


	6. Tally Ho, AKA Meeting the Goa'uld

Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate

A/N: There is only 1 chapter left of this, but I'm having problems with it, so wish me luck. I have planned a sequel, but, well, it's pretty much one of many things.

* * *

><p><em>In which... Oh, you figure it out!<em>

* * *

><p>"What I want to know is why Sam had to pick on me," Xander whined.<p>

"Well," Buffy tilted her head in though, "it's probably because you're so good at the contact magic, which she wanted to study."

Willow nodded. "Yep. Well, that, or the fact that you're so much like Jack, yet you can't do anything if she treats you like a guinea pig."

Xander scowled at his sisters. "And if I told Jack?" he demanded.

"He'd tell you to suck it up, and be a man," Jack smirked as he entered the room. "Also known as the 'better you than me' syndrome."

Xander snorted. "Great. I'm being punished for my father's misbehaviour," he pouted, though he could feel the smile trying to peek out.

"Oh, no," Jack shook his head. "I get the feeling that she was picking on you for your own sake. Everyone keeps saying how much you take after me. Seems like you're just as good at pissing people off as I am." He stopped and wiped a fake tear from his eye. "A chip off the old block, son," he murmured faux-proudly.

Xander smirked. "You just remember that next time you want to ground me, okay?"

Jack rolled his eyes, but didn't bother to conceal his grin. He'd lost his son, his only child, horribly, years ago. Now he had not just a son, but two beautiful and intelligent daughters. This, he decided, was his ultimate payback for having to deal with the Goa'uld, and other pains in the neck. Of course, the universe got its own back for inflicting his DNA on it in the form of a son just like him, and two beautiful daughters to protect from the ravening horde … uh … other men.

* * *

><p>It was a fairly large group that had assembled in the Gate Room. Apart from SG1, there were Jack's three children, a girlfriend, and a mentor, who was fidgeting uncomfortably with the strap of his helmet.<p>

"I'm not entirely sure why my presence is required," Giles muttered, scowling.

"You're here to keep Danny company," Jack smirked as he moved past and up the ramp, Xander beside him.

Xander stopped at the base of the ramp, and looked around the large room. "Huh," he muttered. "Would you look at that?"

"Look at what?" Jack asked, curious.

"I'm you," Xander grinned. "No, really, look at us." Xander nodded to the women at the Event Horizon. "You've got Carter, I've got Willow." He turned to look back at the two groups behind them. "Giles is my Danny, and Buffy is my Teal'c. That makes me you."

Jack looked around at the group, and began to chuckle. "Damn if you aren't right," he admitted. Then, raising his voice, he went on. "Okay, campers, time to get this show on the road." With that, he slung his arm across his son's shoulders, and led him up the ramp.

* * *

><p>They arrived in a sunny, well-lit clearing. The air was absurdly clean, and the area quiet.<p>

"Well?" Jack demanded of his son.

Xander made a face. "Trees," he decided, nodding. "Lots of 'em."

Behind their backs, Danny put his hand out to receive a bill from Sam, along with a hissed, "You told him, didn't you?" Danny simply grinned, shook his head, and adjusted his pack before setting out towards the path visible in the tree-line.

Sam settled her pack as well, then said, "Well, this should be a nice quiet trip. It's not like they get any Goa'uld here." She immediately felt four pairs of eyes glare at her.

"Carter," Jack whined. "I can't believe you did that!"

"I thought you were finished torturing me," Xander whined.

"You have totally jinxed us," Willow added, in a matching tone.

"_Now_ can we get some weapons?" Buffy added, a touch petulantly.

"You've got weapons," Jack argued. "Not only has General Hammond has been incredibly generous even letting you come here, but he also gave you zats, which do have to be returned, just so you know."

"Yeah, but…" Buffy began, pouting, as she pulled out the alien weapon.

"Right," Jack began, and he quickly and carefully explained the weapon, bringing big smiles to each of his children.

"And these have to go back?" Xander asked, trying out the puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, Xander, they do," Jack confirmed.

"Ah, darn it to heck," Xander grumbled.

Jack snorted, knowing his son wasn't really that upset.

* * *

><p>Xander looked around the cell, then looked at Sam. "You owe me a box of Twinkies," he decided.<p>

"I what?" Sam asked, tearing herself away from the lock.

"You jinxed us, and you won't let me play with the lock. Therefore you owe me a box of Twinkies," Xander nodded.

"You did jinx us, Carter," Jack agreed. "And you won't let him play with the lock."

"It's not Ancient technology, it's Goa'uld," Sam defended.

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Seeing that I've never touched Ancient tech, that I know of," he added conscientiously, "that's not really a valid point."

"Fine," Sam huffed, stepping back from the door. "Help yourself."

Sam frowned, worried, when she saw the look on Xander's face. Yes, that was, without doubt, the look that worried Buffy, and the reason the young man wasn't allowed to play with explosives. Jack, either, for that matter. Jack was just better at hiding it, that was all. Xander hovered at the door of the cell, obviously trying to decide which way he should go.

"Just blow the damn thing up," Jack scowled. "You know you want to."

Xander flashed a blinding smile at his father. "Yeah, but I kind of thought that maybe I should do something a little more discrete. You know, like just telling it to unlock."

"_Dissero_," Giles offered.

"I know that," Xander pouted. "But what's the fun in that?"

"We get out of here?" Buffy tried.

"Fine," Xander huffed, then placed his hands on the front and back of the locking mechanism, and whispered the word. They heard the click, and Xander pulled the door open. "Still think I should have blown the whole thing up," he muttered.

"I know, son," Jack consoled, patting his shoulder. "Tell you what, when we get home, I'll take you out to Area 51, and we'll play with some stuff."

"Dear God," Giles murmured as Sam shuddered, closed her eyes, and whimpered.

* * *

><p>Buffy wrinkled her nose as she gazed after the troop walking away from their hiding place. "Has no one ever suggested that wearing metal over-shoes on a metal deck really isn't a good idea?" she asked.<p>

"Are you going to tell them?" Sam demanded.

"Well, no," Buffy frowned.

"There you go, then. Besides, it's not like they have a whole lot of enemies, aside from each other. And they all wear pretty much the same thing. You know, just change things like cobra head-gear for Apophis, because he had a snake as his symbol, something else for a different 'god'."

"Yeah, but … stealth," Buffy tried.

"Not a concept they've really cottoned onto," Sam shook her head. "Nor," she added, frowning at the smaller blonde, "do we want them to."

Buffy blinked. "Well, no," she agreed, the 'well, duh' not quite so hidden in her voice. "A dumb villain is a good villain."

"So why are we discussing ways to make them smarter?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

"Uh … we shouldn't?" Buffy tried.

"Precisely," Sam agreed cordially.

* * *

><p>Willow peered over at the Goa'uld attending to some business the other end of the room. "And all of a sudden, Amy's rat spell is looking pretty good."<p>

"Rat spell?" Danny asked, curiosity piqued.

"Amy turned me into a rat, then, later, ratted herself," Buffy explained.

"To be fair," Giles offered, "they were trying to burn you three at the stake."

"They what?" Danny hissed, outraged.

Buffy shrugged. "It was a demon thing. Hansel and Gretel? Not so nice when you get to know them."

"Hansel and Gretel are demons?" Danny asked, stunned.

"Yep," Buffy nodded. "That was one of their games. They rile the villagers up so they go on a witch hunt."

Willow sniggered. "'MOO'," she grinned.

Buffy scowled at her half-sister. "Not. Funny."

"Oh, yes," Giles grinned, remembering. "That was your mother's idea, wasn't it?"

"'MOO'?" Danny asked.

"'Mothers Opposed to the Occult,'" Giles explained. "We had book burnings, and locker searches, and, of course, the obligatory witch burning."

"I wasn't even a witch," Buffy grumbled.

"You tried to burn Jack's daughters at the stake?" Danny asked, horrified.

"Oh, no," Willow hurriedly assured him. "Giles was unconscious during all the attempted burning-at-the-stake. Oh, hey," she went on excitedly, turning to Buffy, "speaking of rattings, do you think Xander's magic is the reason the love spell went kablooey?"

"Love spell?" Danny asked. He really had to stop this. He was a language arts specialist, and a diplomat for the SGC. Surely he could do more than just repeat random words.

Buffy nodded. "Cordelia dumped Xander on Valentines Day, so he got Amy to cast a love spell on her, except if backfired, and all the women in Sunnydale fell in love with him."

"Obsessively in love," Giles clarified when he thought Danny wasn't fully understanding the situation. "Several witches, a Slayer, and _all_ of the women in Sunnydale were chasing him. They were also very upset with Cordelia for hurting him like that."

Danny's eyes widened at the implications.

"Oh, and a vampire," Willow added. "Apparently Drusilla asked Xander how he felt about eternity."

The Sunnydale group collectively shuddered at the thought of a vamped Xander.

"I didn't go for it," Xander countered. "Obviously."

"Right," Jack decided. "Can we stop talking about my son, the vampire Lothario, and see about getting out of here?"

"Too late," Willow announced.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack muttered. They'd spent so much time talking about rattings and witch burnings, and love spells, that the Goa'uld had noticed their escape. He was about to tell his team to cover the civilians, when he noticed that Buffy, Xander and Giles had formed up to provide cover for Willow and Tara, who were holding hands and beginning to chant. Buffy had managed to acquire a second zat from somewhere, and was ambidextrously picking off the enemy. He shook his head, and began to finish what his children had begun.

Unfortunately, they'd been so occupied with the Jaffa in front of them, that another group had managed to come up from behind, and zatted them into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>"How in hell did they sneak up on us?" Jack demanded.<p>

"The author got stuck?" Xander offered, looking nervously at the Gou'ald heading their way.

"Huh?" Sam asked intelligently.

"Assuming, of course, that we're the products of the delusions of a raving fan-girl," Willow nodded.

Jack assumed a sour look. "And what if this is real life?"

"Then we obviously weren't paying attention, and we're in the deep doo-doo," Xander nodded helpfully.

"Did your mothers contribute any genetic material at all?" Sam asked, exasperated.

"Well, I certainly didn't get her height," Buffy grumbled.

"And your colour needs a little more help than hers does," Willow added.

"Hey!" Buffy protested.

"No!" Xander scowled at his sisters. "We are not having the colour debate. Again. You both like to 'spice things up,' we all know, so don't bother trying to deny it. Besides," he added, grimacing at the alien glaring at them, "we've kind of got other things to worry about right now, don't you think?"

Willow and Buffy both shrugged sheepishly at the others.

"Well, well, well," the gaudy Goa'uld sneered. "What have we here? SG1, and 'honoured' friends? Oh, I shall be so rewarded when I hand you over to Anubis. And I do not think I shall enjoy using the sarcophagus so much as I shall during your … wait."

"Oh God," Xander muttered to Willow. "Evil Overlord List, number 6."

Willow bit her lip to hold in the snickers, but Xander's little contribution to the conversation hadn't gone unnoticed.

Xander grit his teeth as the alien lifted him by his shirt. "You know, if you cackle, and tell me you'll get me, and my little dog, too, I'll…"

"You'll what, Tau'ri scum?" the Goa'uld sneered.

"I'll do this," Xander smirked as he reached up and grabbed the arm holding him up. "_Depello vermis_," he snarled, and the Goa'uld jerked back, screaming, before he slumped to the floor. Wriggling sluggishly on the floor not far from the body was the Goa'uld itself. Xander stared at if for a long second before he stomped down hard on it

SG1 and friends looked from the downed host, to the smeared Goa'uld, to Xander, and back again.

"And that means … ?" Jack asked.

Xander looked up at his father, and grinned. "Expel worm. Better than worming medicine," he chirped. Then he thought about what he'd said, and made a face. When his sisters hit him, he said nothing, but accepted it as his due punishment.

"Yes, well," Giles began. "Now that that's done, perhaps we might consider going home?"

"Home, yes," Xander agreed. "Home is of the good. Problem with that is…" Xander trailed off as he waved his hand to the remaining Jaffa.

"Your god is dead," Jack declared in a loud voice. "Behold the god-killer. Now just step aside so the god-killer and his, uh," Jack faltered.

"Minions," Xander hissed.

"Oh, you are so paying for that," Buffy hissed back.

Jack cleared his throat. "And his minions can leave." When the Jaffa didn't seem inclined to take Jack up on his offer, he went on. "Or, you know, you can just stay here, and see what the god-killer can do to you. Or, better yet, I'm pretty sure his minions are upset enough to try taking it out on you. And you really don't want them to do that. Any of you got girlfriends? Wives? You know what I'm talking about."

"Sir!" Sam hissed, wishing she could hit him in public.

The Jaffa, however, considered Jack's words, and observed the two women either side of the so-called god-killer. The smaller, fairer one was obviously angry, and had her little hands clenched into tiny fists, yet even the shol'va was making certain to keep his distance. The red-haired on one the other side was even more disturbing, especially now that she had somehow produced two fireballs hovering above her open hands.

As one, the Jaffa parted, and allowed SG1 and minions, uh, friends to depart. They remained unaccosted as they made their way back to the Gate, opened the wormhole, and returned to Earth.

General Hammond considered the group as they walked down the ramp from the Gate, and sighed. He could see signs of a tussle on various members of the group. "How was your trip?" he asked, hoping against hope.

"Not bad," Jack nodded. "Of course, Sam had to jinx us, and we got caught, but the universe is now one Goa'uld less than it used to be, and my son is now the god-killer," he grinned. "Oh, did anyone get the name of the snake Xander smeared?" He looked around at the group. "Anyone?"

General Hammond sighed. He was _not_ looking forward to the mission debrief or reports.

* * *

><p>Evil Overlord's List, #6 - I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.<p>

For the whole list, google 'Evil Overlord's List'. There are two similar lists, I used Peter Anspach's list.


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